


Mass Casualties

by Ilovecastiel18



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forehead Kisses, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, Other, Pandemics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29468784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilovecastiel18/pseuds/Ilovecastiel18
Summary: In one of the rare moments that Crowley is not at the bookshop, Aziraphale hears that, a year after the pandemic started, the number of deaths in the United States had hit a record high. Aziraphale is distressed about the immense loss of life. Crowley comes back and comforts him. Hurt/Comfort, angst, love confessions. One-Shot.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Mass Casualties

**Author's Note:**

> I am (unfortunately) an American, and may dad almost died from Covid back in March, so the number of people (including my idiot uncle) who are not wearing masks here because “it’s infringing on my rights!” has made me madder than I think I have ever been, and that’s saying something. So, I wanted to write something about how many people are dying in the United States, if only for my own sanity. Anyway, if you like the story, please consider leaving me a kind review, those help motivate me to keep writing! Thanks for reading!

**Disclaimer:** Good Omens, along with its characters, locations, etc. are the property of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. If I owned the rights to it, I wouldn’t still be desperate to meet the man that I absolutely ADORE: David Tennant.

……….

Mass Casualties

……….

Aziraphale was… distraught. Crowley had just gone back to his apartment to pick up a few changes of clothes (he had been staying at the bookshop since the beginning of the pandemic), which meant that Aziraphale had had some time to catch up on some things. This meant that he had turned on the news on his old television in the back room of the shop and opened up a new (old) novel that he had been neglecting since he had been spending more time with Crowley.

He hadn’t been keeping up with what was going on with the pandemic, it made him much too sad to see how many people were dying. But, he knew that he needed to have at least some vague knowledge of what was going on, just so he would know when he and Crowley could start going out again like they used to. When he turned it on, he didn’t even get around to opening his novel. He was captivated by the television, which was reporting that the United States had hit a record high death toll from the pandemic, hitting a whopping 245,000 in just one day.

Even though he was no longer employed by Heaven, and even though he didn’t much feel like an angel anymore (though that was an issue for another time) Aziraphale felt his stomach drop and his heart swell with sorrow when he saw how many people were dying because of the virus. He wondered who could have possibly allowed this to happen. Was Heaven to blame? Hell? Aziraphale shut off the television and sank back into the cushions of the sofa, a hand pressed over his mouth. His novel long forgotten, he fought back the tears that were welling up at the back of his eyes.

He had just started losing the fight when he heard the bell over the door of the shop tinkle, and heard Crowley walking upstairs to deposit his clothes in the dresser. Aziraphale fought even harder against the tears in his eyes when he heard Crowley saunter back downstairs and make his way toward the back room. When he pushed the curtain aside, Aziraphale felt a tear drip down his face.

“Angel? What’s wrong?” Crowley quickly made his way over to sit next to Aziraphale, whipping his sunglasses off his face and tossing them onto the coffee table.

“Crowley, I…” Aziraphale swallowed past a lump in his throat, scrubbing his hands down his face. “I turned on the news when you were gone.”

Crowley scooted closer to Aziraphale on the sofa and placed a cautious hand on his back. He grabbed ahold of one of the angel’s hands with his other. “And?”

“There are so many people dying… 245,000 people died in the United States from the virus just _yesterday…”_ Aziraphale’s voice cracked, and he let go of Crowley to bury his face in his hands.

“Oh, Aziraphale…” Crowley pulled the angel into his chest, wrapping his arms around his shaking shoulders.

“Who could have done this, Crowley? Did Heaven do this? Was it Hell? Who could have done something this _atrocious?_ Is it our fault for stopping the apocalypse? Is this payback?” Aziraphale rattled off a series of questions into Crowley’s chest, his voice tight with tears.

Crowley sighed. “I don’t know, angel. I wish I did.” Crowley leaned down and kissed the top of Aziraphale’s head. “I would tell you it’s going to be okay, but I can’t guarantee that.”

“I know, Crowley. I’m sorry that I laid all those questions on you. I know that you know just as much as I do.” Aziraphale sniffed and tried to pull away from the demon, but he held on.

“All of these deaths, Aziraphale… it hurts me too. I hate seeing humans die, that’s why I fought so hard with you to stop the apocalypse even though I thought for sure that Hell was going to kill me for it.” Aziraphale could hear the tears that were tightening Crowley’s voice.

“I know, dear.” Aziraphale straightened up in Crowley’s arms, pressing his forehead against the demon’s. he sniffed. “It hurts so much, seeing all of these people dying. Especially because we cannot do anything about it.” He reached up and cupped Crowley’s cheek. “You are… the best person that I know, Crowley. I know you hate it when I say that, but you are _so_ kind. You care more than any demon, human, or even angel that I have ever met.”

Crowley scoffed halfheartedly. “When did this conversation turn into complimenting me?” he asked quietly. “I’m not as kind as you, Aziraphale. Never.”

Aziraphale smiled tightly. “I wouldn’t be so sure, dearest.” A tear dripped from his eye. “You are being hurt by this pandemic just as much as I am, but instead of allowing yourself to grieve you are comforting me.”

“’Course I am, angel. I will always take care of you. Always.” Crowley smiled tightly.

“That was my point, Crowley.” Aziraphale smiled.

“That doesn’t necessarily make me kind, Aziraphale. You’re just… so important to me. More important than anything else. I would do anything for you, angel.” He reached up and swiped his thumb across Aziraphale’s cheekbone, catching a falling tear.

Aziraphale choked back his tears. “I know, Crowley. I would do anything for you too.” He brushed his thumb across Crowley’s cheekbone. “You’re the most important person in _my_ life. I’m so sorry that I have made you believe in the past that you were nothing more than a burden to me. You are so much more than that.”

Crowley tipped his face forward and kissed Aziraphale’s forehead, lingering for a long moment. “I never believed that, angel. No matter what you said or did, I never believed that you hated me. I need you to know that, and believe it.” he muttered when he pulled away.

Aziraphale sucked in a breath. “I’m still so very sorry, Crowley. All of this death is making me realize that I never appreciated you like I should have. I’m so sorry.” A few more tears dripped from his eyes. Crowley kissed his cheek.

“I forgive you, Aziraphale.” He whispered. “I will always forgive you.”

Aziraphale let out a tight breath. He leaned forward and kissed Crowley on the mouth. He cupped the back of Crowley’s head, lacing his fingers through one of the demon’s thin hands. Crowley leaned into the kiss, tasting salt on Aziraphale’s lips. He reached up and cupped Aziraphale’s cheek again, his hand wet with the angel’s falling tears.

Aziraphale pulled away after a long moment, looking deep into Crowley’s eyes. “I love you, Crowley.” He choked out, his throat tight.

Crowley smiled. “I love you, Aziraphale. I always have.” Aziraphale watched a tear fall from Crowley’s eye, and he reached up and brushed it away with his thumb. “We’ll get through this, just like we got through the apocalypse. The humans will survive, like they did with the Plague. Everything will be alright, one day.”

Aziraphale tucked his head against Crowley’s chest, wrapping his arms loosely around his thin waist. “I hope so, dearest.”

Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s shoulders, resting his chin lightly on the top of the angel’s head. “Me too, angel.”


End file.
